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He continued working, his movements fueled by a newfound energy, asurge of hope that had been dormant for decades. He helped Rory repair the ship, her guidance invaluable, her insights brilliant. Together, they brought the ship back online,her systems humming, her weapons primed, her engines ready toroar.

As he worked, he felt a wave of heat, stronger than any he’d experienced for his Final Flight. He braced himself, anticipating the agony, the burning, the inevitable descent into madness. But it didn’t come. The heat subsided, replaced by a feeling of… warmth. Acomforting warmth that spread through his body, asensation he hadn’t felt in centuries.

He glanced at the dwindling stack of apples, then at Rory, her image shimmering with a knowing smile. She nodded, her eyes filled with a silent confirmation. She’d been right. The apples… They worked.

Gratitude surged through him. He was alive. And he had a mission. He would find Jo’Nay and rescue him. One way or another, he would bring those scavenging scum to justice.

He turned to Rory, his gaze meeting hers. “We are ready,” he said, his voice firm, his resolve unshakeable. “Let us go hunting.”

Chapter 17

THE HOLDINGbay reeked of sweat, fear, and despair. Winn huddled on the cold, metallic floor with the other women, her body aching, her spirit battered. The air was thick with the harsh scent of oil and sweat, the dim lighting casting flickering shadows across thebay.

The low hum of the ship’s engines reverberated through the floor, mingling with the distant clanging of tools and the occasional barked order from a Marauder. Every sound felt like a harbinger of doom, pressing down on Winn and the other women like a suffocating weight.

The Marauders had herded them, adozen terrified Earth women, into a corner of the bay, while awaiting their ultimate fate. Beyond the crude barricades, asmall group of buyers—aliens—stood in clusters, their expensive attire clashing with the grim surroundings. Their low murmurs and occasional bursts of laughter cut through the tension, acruel reminder that for them, this was a pleasurable business transaction.

At least the women were no longer in a cage, though it didn’t do any of them much good when faced with the heavily armed Marauders.

Just hours ago, she had been tight in Jo’Nay’s embrace, their whispered words a fragile comfort amidst chaos. Now, she was ripped from his arms, her future uncertain, her fate hanging by a thread. She glanced around at the other women, their faces pale and drawn, their eyes mirroring her own fear. Elara, her newfound friend, sat beside her, her shoulders slumped, her gaze fixed on the floor. Winn reached out, her hand finding Elara’s, their fingers intertwining in a silent pact of solidarity.

“We have to get out of here,” Winn whispered, her voice barely audible above the murmuring of the other women. “Before they transport us.”

Elara nodded, her eyes meeting Winn’s, aflicker of defiance burning in their depths. She shoved her glasses higher on her nose. “Or sell us. But how? We’re trapped. They’re armed. We don’t stand a chance.”

“There’s always a chance,” Winn insisted, her voice firm, though her heart trembled.

She thought of Jo’Nay, of his unyielding strength and his promises to protect her. If the apple seeds he’d eaten healed him and he regained enough energy to escape his cell, they could get out of here. She had to believe that. She could only hope what she’d given him was sufficient and would kick insoon.

“They’re auctioning us off,” one of the women whispered, her voice trembling. “The buyers are here. Rich buyers. From all over the galaxy.”

Winn’s gaze shifted to the group again. Their faces, lit with a mix of boredom and anticipation, made her stomach churn.She had overheard one of them earlier, discussing the “value” of Earth women as though they were commodities to be appraised andsold.

A cold dread seeped into Winn’s bones. The slave markets. Afate worse than death. The Marauders had taken delight in sharing stories of women sold to the highest bidder, their bodies treated as commodities, their spirits broken, their lives extinguished.

She had to get to Jo’Nay. He was their onlyhope.

She glanced around the holding bay, searching for a way out, an opportunity. The Marauders, their attention focused on catering to the buyers, weren’t paying much attention to anything else, probably assuming the women were sufficiently cowed to not cause trouble.

Winn nudged Elara, her gaze fixed on a group of Marauders lounging nearby, their weapons slung carelessly over their shoulders. Her eyes locked on Skarrp, the hulking brute polishing Jo’Nay’s sword. Awave of revulsion and anger churned within her as she watched the Marauder’s clawed fingers slide over the blade.

That weapon, asymbol of Jo’Nay’s strength and protection, now mocked them in Skarrp’s hands. The gleam of its Vettian design seemed to taunt her, acruel reminder of how far they’d fallen and how much they stood tolose.

“Of course Skarrp would have Jo’Nay’s sword,” Winn whispered in disgust. “Somehow we have to get it away from him.”

Elara’s eyes widened. “Are you crazy? They’ll kill us!”

“We have to try,” Winn insisted, her gaze unwavering. “Without that sword, Jo’Nay is powerless. With it, he might stand a chance. He might be able to save us.”

Before she could formulate a plan, the heavy bay doors opened with a hiss. Agroup of Marauders entered, dragging Jo’Nay between them. His movements were weak and staggering, each step betraying immense pain. Blood streaked his tunic and power manacles locked his arms behindhim.

Laughing at Jo’Nay’s weakness, the Marauders kicked his legs out from under him, forcing him to his knees. With a groan, he straightened, his gaze flashing in Winn’s direction.

And then to her disbelief, he winked.

Skarrp’s single blood-red eye gleamed with satisfaction, the sinister glow accentuated by the jagged scar running diagonally across his face. His hulking frame radiated menace as he loomed over Jo’Nay, every movement deliberate, apredator savoring his dominance. The gleam in his eye was not just satisfaction—it was the cruel delight of a man who thrived onfear.

“What a prize,” Skarrp crowed and gestured to the women. “Behold, females, the infamous Intergalactic Warrior, Jo’Nay,” he announced loudly, his voice carrying to the buyers near a stage centered in the holding bay. Aripple of interest stirred among them, and one of the wealthier-looking bidders stepped forward, inspecting Jo’Nay with a greedy glint in his eyes. “This warrior will fetch a fine price alongside all of you humans.”

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